


Mr. Blue Sky

by DearNymphadora



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Eventual Space Dad! Stakar, Eventual Space Dad! Yondu, Gen, Violence, Young Yondu, only for like the first chapter or so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-11-30 20:21:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11470968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearNymphadora/pseuds/DearNymphadora
Summary: This fic will follow Yondu through his life from his beginnings as a Kree battle slave in training, to becoming a Ravager to eventually picking up Peter Quill.This is my first go at this, so please be kind.





	1. The Facility

**Author's Note:**

> My friend thought I had some pretty good ideas about Yondu's beginnings and his character in general, so I decided to take a crack at writing him. I want to add more, so hopefully things go over well!
> 
> Couple of little warnings: This chapter's got some violence as well as child slavery. This is just going to be the first chapter or two, then Stakar's gonna sweep in, so it won't be something that I make a habit of.
> 
> Borrowed an idea about Yondu getting his name from here: http://sarah531.tumblr.com/post/162327508506/iocassandra-sevi007-slight-spoilers-for-gotg

There was never any real reason for Yondu Udonta to have any sort of yearning for freedom. It wasn’t something that had ever been offered to him, nor was it anything that he would even be able to comprehend. He’d been sold to the Kree by his parents when he was only two years old, and he had felt no ounce of kindness that he could remember. All he knew was what he had been told. What he’d been trained to do. 

Currently, he was ten years old, and he sat silently on the edge of the metal cot that was in his cell. There was nothing aside from the cot in the small room that he had lived in for as long as he could remember. He was served small amounts of food though a small slot in the door and he needed to wait until he was given permission to use the bathroom. Then he would need to be accompanied by a soldier.

He waited inside his small cell until he was retrieved by a tall blue soldier. He was a Kree, not a Centaurian like Yondu; they were two slightly different shades of blue. Yondu also had a red fin that was on the top of his head, which now went from the top of his forehead to the base of his skull.

The soldier unlocked the boy’s cell and barked an order at him to stand in the doorway. He obeyed and stood quietly as the soldier inspected his collar, and the raw skin that was beneath it. “You’ve been pickin’ at it again,” the soldier said in a low gravelly voice. He cuffed Yondu over the head and huffed, “idiot. Hurts more when you pick at it.”

They walked in silence though the corridors of the facility, the soldier making it known to Yondu that he had his gun drawn. They would turn three times, right, left, right, pass twelve doors, which were always closed, and see four other soldiers on their daily walk to the training room. On this day, however, their turns were all the same, though there were no other soldiers in the hallway and a single door was open. He didn’t move his head, but as he passed, Yondu peeked inside the door and saw a child hunched over in a chair and a lot of blood.

“Tried to escape. Just in case you get any ideas,” the soldier said, just as they were turning their final corner. Escape? How could anyone think of escaping? They’d be shot dead or beaten within an inch of their life if, and when, they were caught. Where would someone even go if they escaped the facility? It was all Yondu had. It was all there was.

They arrived at a large door at the end of the hallway and they soldier opened it with a passcode that he punched into the keypad. 7-4-8-1-2-9. The numbers each had their own unique sound, only slightly different from one another. But Yondu had seen enough of them to be able to put the code together. In three days the code would change and he would listen to the sounds the buttons made once again and memorize the new code. He never let it be known that he knew the passcodes, it would only lead to punishment.

Past the doors there was a large room in which Yondu and twenty nine other children around his age would do their training. Yondu’s specialty was archery, he could hit a moving target from a hundred yards away. He wasn’t terrible at sword work or hand to hand combat, but there was something about archery that drew him to it. Personally, he thought it was the sound the arrow made as it whizzed through the air toward its target.

That day was their hand-to-hand combat training day. The children were put into pairs and one pair at a time was forced to fight. Yondu was paired with a scrawny pink-skinned girl, though it was hard to tell if she was a girl or not because her hair had been chopped off like the rest of the children’s. She was covered in scars, which made Yondu smirk a little. She would be easy to beat as most of her scars were the ones inflicted by the trainers. Whichever child lost their fight would be wounded in some way, to remind them that there is no room for error when you are fighting for the Kree.

The pair of children in the middle of the group who had started off the fighting were finished, the Baelsi boy left in a heap on the floor. The tallest trainer grabbed a long brown whip from the wall. The brown synthetic cords that is was woven from shone in a way that made everyone stop and stare at it. The last several inches of the whip near the tip were several shades darker, remnants of the blood that it had drawn in the past. There was a loud ‘CRACK’ as the end of the whip made contact with the boy’s skin. Yellow blood began to pour from the wound as the trainer raised his arm again. With another ‘CRACK’, the boy’s skin was broken once again and his blood spattered onto the ceiling off of the end of the whip. Yondu could tell the boy was fighting off tears, fighting off the urge to cry out. If he’d done that it would only get him more lashings.

Eight more crisscrossed lashes later, the boy was a whimpering mess on the ground.  
The trainer barked at him to stand and he, with the motivation of the threat of more lashes, stood and followed the trainer. The trainer next to Yondu nodded as the boy was escorted out and called out two more children, “Two-Eleven and Two-Twenty-Five! You’re up!”

The children weren’t given names by their owners or the soldiers or the trainers, but they did tend to give each other names in the small amounts of time during which they could sneak in a few words to each other. Yondu, then known only as “Two-Thirteen” at the time, had gotten his name from a Xandarian boy. The boy had said that he’d heard of a Centaurian, like Two-Thirteen was, who had been a fierce warrior and defender of his people. He went by the name of Yondu Udonta. And so, Two-Thirteen decided that he would steal this man’s name, and attempt to someday live up to it. He had no idea if the man was real or simply someone that the Xandarian boy had completely made up… But it sounded much better than Two-Thirteen. Anything was better than a slave's number.

By the time it was Yondu’s turn to fight the pink-skinned girl, the floor was bathed in blood. Each new pair needed to fight in the same place as the pair before them, each fight and the following punishment leaving it’s own deposit to the floor. Yondu stepped in the puddles as he squared himself off against the small girl. He’d play with her a little, wouldn’t want to cut the fight off too quickly.

They each threw a few punches, some making contact, but Yondu got bored quickly. He lunged at her and quickly had her pinned to the floor, she writhed and tried to get him off of her. She swung her arms wildly at Yondu, landing a few well-placed punches to his face and head. A fist made contact with Yondu’s fin and made him gasp, which was enough for the girl to shove him off. In an instant the girl grabbed Yondu by his fin and forced his head to collide with her knee several times, until he began to go limp. She let him drop and stood over him, her body covered in blood (none of which was her own), and placed her foot on his neck. She would be unable to kill him because of the solid metal collar around his neck. She looked up at the trainer and he gave her a slight nod, signalling that she could join the other who had won their own battles.

Yondu coughed and groaned slightly, feeling as though the room was spinning. How had he lost? And to someone so small? He looked toward the trainer and noticed he didn’t have the whip in his hands. Instead there was a shiny saw with sharp teeth that seemed to sparkle in the lights. The trainer, as well as two others, approached him and he could sense that he was going to wish for the lashings that the other children had gotten.

Two of the guards grabbed his arms and pinned his legs down with their knees while the other grabbed Yondu’s fin and grinned. “Two-Thirteen, you need to try much harder than that if you want to survive training. Maybe this will remind you of that.”

The pain that Yondu felt then was unlike any he had felt before. He tried everything to get away from the men, but they had a vice-like grip on him as the tallest trainer hacked his way through Yondu’s fin. He looked around to the other children as he screamed and jerked his body as much as he could; and all they did was watch. 

Yondu had added more than his share of blood to the floor by the time his fin was completely removed. He lay on his side once he was let go and all he could do was stare ahead in shock. The tall trainer laughed as he dropped the amputated fin in front of the boy’s face, and laughed harder when it splashed blood onto him. Yondu touched the fin, then the raw, open wound on the top of his head. He couldn’t believe it was gone.

“Get up! Now!”

He could barely stand, but Yondu tried his best to walk normally down the corridor as a soldier escorted him back to his cell, though in reality he walked very similarly to a wounded animal. He heard the beeps from the keypad, which for his door was only four numbers instead of six - 3-6-7-4. Too bad it could only be opened from the outside.

The young Centaurian collapsed on his metal cot, still covered in blood, and sobbed. His chest heaved and he felt like he was going to be sick and his hands kept going up to where his fin used to be, hoping that somehow this was all just a horrible bad dream and that he would wake up and everything would be back to normal. As he lay on the cot, Yondu stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine a world outside of the facility. Some of the children who were older when they arrived said there were so many things to see, so many things on the outside that they missed. Planets, people, animals.. Some talked of their mothers and fathers, and how they used to tell them stories before bed.

For the first time in his years at the facility, Yondu yearned for that. A family, to go outside, to see new things and meet new people who weren’t going to hurt him. He wanted to escape. He thought of the child that he had seen earlier, beaten and bloodied in his cell for attempting to leave. That’s what would happen if he tried too, thought Yondu. He’d be beaten nearly to death and then they’d leave him there to think about what he’d done. That was the only working solution that he Kree had found.

He decided, at least for the time being, that it was best to do as he was told, try his hardest to win his next fights. There wasn’t much worse they could do to him, besides kill him. But if Yondu saw a window of opportunity, any chance at all to escape the facility, he would take it in an instant.


	2. Stakar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his third day of confinement he heard unusual sounds coming from the hallway outside his door. He’d heard blasters and guns be fired before, but never in the hallways. He climbed off of the cot and carefully approached the door, ready to jump back if a soldier or a guard happened to open it. He couldn’t move the small slat that covered the window on the door, but he could hear what was happening just beyond that fairly clearly. 
> 
> “All clear, Captain!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Stakar here is around 25-30, which I know is super young for a Captain, but he needs to be this young for the timeline I have in mind to work out.
> 
> If you like it, please remember to leave Kudos!

Yondu was confined to his cell for the few days following his fin removal, save only for the times that he was escorted to the bathroom and the showers. His first shower after his punishment was possibly the worst shower he’d ever had. Normally it was fairly comfortable, but now he only felt the sting as jets of water hit the tender wound on the top of his head. 

He sat on his cot, curled up around himself, water still dripping off of him and a small, steady trickle of blood ran off his head and down his face. In a few more days it would hopefully scab over and he wouldn’t be covered in blood for training. 

On his third day of confinement he heard unusual sounds coming from the hallway outside his door. He’d heard blasters and guns be fired before, but never in the hallways. He climbed off of the cot and carefully approached the door, ready to jump back if a soldier or a guard happened to open it. He couldn’t move the small slat that covered the window on the door, but he could hear what was happening just beyond that fairly clearly. 

“All clear, Captain!” He could hear being shouted, followed by many heavy footsteps. “There’s keypads on all these doors, it’s too small a space to blow ‘em up like the ones outside, unless you want to blow us up too.”

Yondu perked up a little, realizing the people outside his door weren’t from the facility and, hopefully, not from the Kree Empire. He stood on his toes and got his face as close to the little covered window as possible. “H-hello? Who’s out there?” There was no answer, but the voices past the door were suddenly silent. Yondu spoke again, louder this time, “Hello! Hello, can you let me out?” 

They must have heard him that time, because the small slat on the door slid open and a pair of eyes glanced inside. Yondu stepped back and looked up to the young man, relieved to see that he was correct - they weren’t Kree. 

“What’re you doing in there kid?” The man looked Yondu up and down and furrowed his brow; the boy was wearing only a pair of small shorts and a tank top, both of which looked worse for wear. Stakar knew instantly he was a slave. “Never mind. How many kids are there in here?” When the people around him heard there was a kid inside, Yondu heard murmurs echoing around the hallways.

“There’s thirty, including me.” He stood stock still and straight up, unsure if these men would harm him if he dared to slouch or shift on his feet. “Can you let me out?”

The man looked to those around him and sighed, “shit.. Kid, we can’t blow the door off, the blast’d kill you. We’ll get a hold of Nova and they-”

“Three, six, seven, four.”

“What?”

“The code for my door. The one at the end of the hall is seven, four, eight, one, two, nine. I know most of the other ones too, but you need to hurry, they’ll change soon.” 

The man outside the door paused, mouth hanging open slightly. How could a slave know the passcodes? He punched in the four digit number that the boy had given him into the keypad next to the door and the lock made a small clicking sound. He opened the door and Yondu took a few steps back. “ ‘s alright, kid, we aren’t going to hurt you.” He turned to one of the men behind him, “get the key for the collar off that guard.” 

Key in hand, the young man gestured for the boy to come closer to him. “I’m Stakar, I’m a Captain of this group of Ravagers. These men here are a part of my crew, we aren’t going to hurt you. I’ll take that collar off and get you out of here if you give us the passcodes, deal?”

Yondu nodded and stepped forward shakily. It wasn’t easy to move with the pain on his head reverberating through the rest of his body. He stood before Stakar and winced only slightly as the collar was removed from his neck. He let out a sigh and carefully touched where the piece of metal had been as it clattered to the floor. He’d never felt more free.

Stakar stood and removed his coat before gently placing it over the boy. The insignia on it looked nothing like the ones on the Kree uniforms, but the bronze coloured flames stood out to Yondu, especially on the black coat.The Captain spoke softly, “What’s your name, kid? Do you even have a name?” 

The coat was far too large for the boy and he had to hold onto it to make sure it wouldn't fall off. He looked to the floor and licked his lips, did he call himself his number? If these men were going to save him, did he really want them to know the number that he was given? He took a steady breath and spoke barely above a whisper, “my name’s Yondu Udonta.”

Stakar nodded, “alright, Yondu, let’s get these doors open. You know where the weapons are stored here?” They’d get the children out if they could, but they were more than likely going to drop a tip to the nearest faction of the Nova Corps. They would have a better hold on how to deal with a group of children.

Yondu nodded and began to shuffle along down the hallway. He didn't get very far before Stakar crouched down and picked the boy up. “Soon as we get outta here we’ll get your head all cleaned up. Looks like you got into a hell of a fight, kid.” He inspected the wound, realizing it had started to become infected. There was still a bit of red flesh around the edges of the wound. “You a Centaurian? Had a fin there?”

Yondu nodded silently and kept his red eyes locked to the end of the hallway, hoping the man wouldn't ask any more about it. When they reached the door, Yondu gave them the code again and many of the men swarmed into the training room. He heard a few shots fired and doors opening, and more shots fired. This continued on for several minutes before they heard a crew member give the all clear.

The training room looked so strange with no children in it, and even stranger with most of the guards, trainers and soldiers dead on the floor. He spotted the trainer who’d taken his fin and felt a sick feeling in his stomach and an ache on the top of his head. He shook his head to snap out of it and looked up at Stakar, “I don’t know where any weapons are, other than the ones we train with. Those are there.” He pointed to a door to their right and again he put in the passcode. 

There wasn't much in the small storage room, definitely not as much as their intel had led them to believe. It definitely wasn't anything that was worth pissing off the Kree. Stakar barked an order for his crew to split up and check each of the hallways that led away from the training room. Yondu opened all but two of them, his memory seeming to fail him momentarily. 

After a short time, a green man approached Stakar and Yondu. “Cap, there’s a bunch more kids. Way more than thirty.” He glanced to Yondu, “you sure you meant to say thirty?” 

Yondu nodded, but began to question himself. “I only knew thirty.”

“Did they give you a number, kid?”

The boy looked up at Stakar, then straight ahead. “Two-Thirteen, Sir.”

Stakar gently placed the boy down onto his feet and walked away, his hand covering his face in frustration. “Shit! Frawe, get a hold of the Nova Corps, give ‘em the coordinates and tell ‘me to get their asses here before the guard’s backup gets here. We’re leaving.” Frawe nodded and jogged down the hallway that they had entered through to get back to the ship.

The green man spoke again, “What about the weapons, Captain? We gotta get what we came for.” 

“There’s nothing here for us to take. The kids are the weapons, they’re battle slaves. Hundreds of ‘em. We don’t deal in kids, even if they are worth a fortune.” He faced the rest of the crew, “back to the ships, we’re getting out of here.”

Yondu still held Stakar’s coat tightly around himself as he looked up to the Captain. “Take me with you.. You said you’d get me out of here.”

Stakar’s men lumbered off down the halls toward the ship, but he was left staring at the kid who’d done all he could to help them try to find what they were looking for. “Ravagers don’t deal in kids. We’ve got a code and I’ve got to stick to it. The Nova Corps will be here to pick you up soon, alright?”

“I don’t know who that is! I want to go with you. I want to escape now, with you. Captain.” His face was hardened, seeming to be completely determined. But in his head he was close to breaking down. He was so desperate for this man to take him away. Things would be better with him than they were in the facility, they had to be.

“Kid..” Stakar sighed and shook his head, not believing himself. He picked up the Centaurian and started off down the hallway. “If you change your mind, though, you have to tell us. You’re free to do what you want. You’re not a slave anymore.” When Yondu spoke a soft ‘okay’, Stakar paused and spoke once more, “How’d you know all those codes?”

The boy shrugged, “I paid attention. Soon as I knew what number made what sound it was easy.”

Stakar stared down at the child and laughed softly in disbelief, a crooked smile on his face, “nice work, Yondu. Hope to see more of it.”

Yondu simply nodded and rested his head on the young man’s chest as he was carried out of the facility. The air felt cool and crisp against his skin and he felt a sudden wave of calm rush over him. A small smile crept across his face and a single thought crossed his mind - he made it out.

The crew member known as Frawe approached Stakar and gave him a curt nod, “got a hold of the Nova Corps, they’re on their way.” He pointed to Yondu, “what are you doin’ with this one, Cap?”

“Kid wants to come. So he’s one of us now, understand?” Stakar looked to the rest of the crew members, who were just staring at him, “Understand?!” This was met with various accepting tones from the crew.

Once they were on one of the three ships, Stakar sat Yondu in one of the seats on the wall near the Captain’s chair and fastened him into it. “Ever been on a ship before?” When the boy shook his head, Stakar nodded. “Right. Just don’t puke on my coat, got it?”

Stakar sat in his seat and began to lift off toward their larger ship, which was waiting not far from the moon that the facility was on. His First Mate sat next to him in his own seat and grinned, “what’s Aleta gonna say to this?”

Stakar only shrugged, “she’s got a soft spot for kids.”


	3. Aleta

“You picked up a kid?!”

Stakar stopped in his tracks and let out a small sigh. “Yeah, but listen-”

“I cannot believe you. You tell me you’re taking the crew to get weapons, Stakar, and you bring back a kid!” The short woman stepped closer to the captain and stared up at him, “you took someone’s kid, Stakar, isn’t it you who’s always on about the code?”

“We didn’t just take him, he wanted to come back with us. It’s what he wanted for the help he gave us. We don’t deal in kids, and I’m not about to start.” Stakar nodded with a sense of finality in the matter. “He’ll stay until he says he doesn’t want to. Treat him like a member of the crew.”

Aleta’s hands rested on her hips and she scoffed, shaking her head. “this isn’t going to be as easy as you think it’s going to be, Stakar. He’s been through a lot, a kid doesn’t just get over this shit. If you think he’s going to just start working, you’re wrong.”

Stakar rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, “he’ll be fine, ‘Leta.”

“Don’t write it off like that. The kid had part of his fucking head removed by those people. He will not be fine,” she snapped, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Just.. I’ll keep an eye on him, show him around. I’m not letting him work ‘til he’s comfortable here.”

A sigh passed his lips and Stakar nodded, “fine. Make sure he adjusts. Keep me posted on his progress too, or let me know if he decides he wants to leave.”

“‘Course I’ll keep ya posted, babe,” she stepped forward and kissed Stakar’s cheek on her way toward the door, “talk to you later, Captain.”

***

Yondu woke in a small room very similar to his cell in the facility, though the bed he lay in had a soft cushion and a blanket to cover him as he slept. He’d been taken to the ship’s med bay after they’d gotten back, and his head was now wrapped in a long strip of cloth. He was in a new pair of shorts and a shirt that was just a little too big on his thin body. He vaguely remembered someone in the med bay helping him change into them.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked around the room. Maybe it wasn’t like his cell at all. There was something that looked like a keypad next to his door, but he had no idea what the code would be, so it was no use in trying. There was a small table against one of the walls, and a chair barely tucked under it, and there were a few pictures on the walls. 

There was a beep just before the door slid open and a dark haired woman stood there, staring at Yondu. “How’s your head feeling? Our guys down in the med bay got it all cleaned up. Good thing, too, ya had a pretty nasty infection in it. They’ll have to patch ya up a little more, once the infection is totally gone.”

The Centaurian pulled his legs back up onto the bed and shuffled backwards so his back was pressed to the wall. “Who’re you?” 

The woman pulled the chair out from under the table and sat on it, a friendly smile crossing her face, “I’m Aleta. The Captain’s assigned me to keep an eye on ya, make sure ya don’t get into trouble. Can’t have you bothering the wrong crew member, you’ll end up getting yourself eaten.” She cringed a little as Yondu’s eyes widened in fear, “that was a little harsh of me to say. I won’t let them eat ya, alright?”

Yondu sighed a bit, relieved that the woman wasn’t serious about the crew eating him. At least, he thought she wasn’t serious. “My head hurts less.” 

His voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper, but loud enough that Aleta could hear him. She nodded, “that’s good. Can I get ya to come for a walk with me? We’re going to get ya something to eat, then we’ll get ya some clothes that’ll make you blend in a bit better here.”

Food was not something that Yondu was ready to say no to in his state. He hadn’t eaten since before Stakar had taken him away from the facility. Without taking his eyes off of Aleta he stood carefully, not as uneasy on his feet as he had been. 

Yondu followed Aleta out of his room and down the halls of the ship, keeping back a respectable distance from her, and he tried to figure out what the codes for the doors on the ship were. A loud clattering noise made him stop and look toward the room that was to the left of him, and in doing so he didn’t see the door in front of him slide shut. 

***

Aleta walked along through the doors, letting Yondu follow quietly behind her. Old habits died hard, especially when child soldiers were concerned. The crew had taken on several men and women who had come from such backgrounds, though most of them had been older than 5 when they were taken. She assumed Yondu had to have been younger than that when he was taken by the Kree. 

She knew as soon as she met the young Centaurian that it was going to take a lot of work and effort to get Yondu to open up to her, but Aleta wasn’t about to give up. He was bright and brave, from what Stakar had told her about what he’d done to help the crew through the building. If he was able to come back from the trauma he’d endured, she knew Yondu would make a fine Ravager. Maybe once he got to wear one of their outfits, which had been called ‘wicked cool’ by children on many planets, he’d be persuaded.

Arriving at the mess hall, Aleta stopped and turned on her heel, “alright, so this is where-” Shit.

***

Yondu paced back and forth in the small hallway, hoping that Aleta would come back to let him out and that she didn’t just leave him there on purpose. She didn’t seem like she would just abandon him, but a lot of children from the facility probably thought that about people before.

He didn’t want to try the keypads, just in case they zapped if the code was wrong, and he wasn’t going to start yelling for help. So he went to the corner, letting his back slide down the wall so he could sit. She would come back. She promised that she’d protect Yondu from the crew, and he really didn’t want to be eaten.

Yondu jolted as the door that Aleta had passed through opened. He stood quickly and prepared himself to fend off any hungry crew members before he realized that he knew the woman standing in front of him. 

Aleta sighed and shook her head, “kid, what are ya doing in here?”

The boy looked to the floor and braced for her to hit him, but nothing happened. He glanced up at her and saw that she was waiting for an answer. “I- I got stuck.”

“Stuck? How in the-” She scoffed and looked as though someone had just told her something completely obvious. “C’mere, kid. I’ll show you how to work these.” 

Yondu approached her with caution and watched as Aleta pointed to the keypad. “All you have to do is tap it, okay? No codes. There are some doors with codes, but those are off limits to more people than just you, okay?” She knelt down so that she was at eye level with Yondu, “ya don’t belong to anyone anymore, and we’re not gonna keep ya in your quarters all day, or make ya fight, or hurt ya. Once we get ya fed and we get ya some decent clothes, ya can decide if ya wanna stay or we can take ya to the Nova Corps where the other kids’ll be.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, “but if ya wanna stay, there’s a place for ya on this ship. Now,” she stood once more, her demeanour shifting back to normal, “let's get ya something to eat. Ya can open the doors for us, if ya want. To get used to ‘em.”

Yondu listened carefully to all that Aleta was telling him. His breathing quickened and his eyes stung, but he would not cry. He was free, really free, and the feeling in his chest was overwhelming. He had a choice, whether to stay or go, and that was a luxury that he’d never been given before. He didn’t need to wait until after he got food to make his decision, though. Yondu wanted to stay on the ship with Aleta and Stakar and the rest of the crew. Even if there was a chance they would eat him. He stood up a little straighter and held his head high. He pressed his index finger on the keypad, like he’d been shown, and couldn't help but smile as the door opened for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave kudos and/or comments if you'd like!


	4. The Tailor

Yondu had decided that the food on Stakar’s ship, which he’d learned was called the Morrell, was the best food in the entire galaxy. He’d had no idea that food could taste as good as it did, or that it didn’t always have to look like slop. By the time he was finished, Yondu had eaten more than he would have in a week at the facility and his stomach felt more than a little queasy. He wouldn’t allow himself to be sick, though, too many voices in his head reminded him of what happened to the children in the facility if they were sick. He also just didn’t want to waste such good food.

Once Yondu and Aleta were both finished with their meals, they made their way to the bridge to relay some information to the captain. Aleta had confessed on their way that Stakar was her husband. She then had to explain what in the galaxy a ‘husband’ was, as well as several other things about marriage in general.

Stakar was sat in a large chair with a control console in front of him. There were lots of buttons and levers and knobs. Yondu thought they must all do something, but he kept to himself as Aleta spoke to Stakar. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she leaned next to him to speak, and she gently squeezed before turning back to Yondu. “I’ll show ya around here another day, kid, but I told Nona we’d be down for your fitting twenty minutes ago.”

“What is a ‘Nona’?” Yondu asked, following Aleta down the halls, still very excitedly opening every door they needed to pass through.

“Stakar’s grandmother. She’s very excited to meet ya, from what Stakar said.” Aleta smiled and let out a soft laugh, “She’s been on our asses since Stakar and I got married to have a kid. I think she’ll stop bothering about it now that there’s a kid on the ship.”

Yondu licked his lips and took a deep breath before speaking, “do you not want kids on the ship?”

She shook her head, “it’s not that. I just don’t wanna have a baby. They’re a lot of work, and I’m busy enough with all the shit Stakar’s got me doin’ on the ship.”

“Will I have to work?” He asked softly, his fingers fiddling with the fabric on the bottom of his shorts. He imagined being in one of the engine rooms that they’d passed. None of the men looked very comfortable, and it looked very hot and sticky and dirty, which were things that Yondu really didn’t want to be all day.

“Not right away,” she explained, “and we’ll find somethin’ ya like doin’. But that won’t be for a while. We Ravagers have a code, we don’t make anyone do anything. Especially not kids.”

Yondu simply nodded and continued to walk alongside Aleta. They soon came upon a door where Aleta stopped, “so this is the tailor’s workshop. We’re going to get you some actual clothes here, and if ya need ‘em fixed or changed at all, ya just come down here.” She gestured for Yondu to open the door and they stepped inside together.

The tailor’s space was a wonderful mess of fabrics, furs, and leathers. Large rolls of fabric had been partially unraveled and draped all around, which made the room feel cozy. Near the back of the room sat a small, dark haired, elderly woman. She looked up from the stitching she’d been working on and looked from Yondu to Aleta and frowned, “what have you gone and dressed this poor boy in? You couldn’t find him at least a shirt that fit him? And pants?” She turned to Yondu, “you cold, baby?”

Yondu shrugged, “don’t matter.”

“Pffft,” the woman scoffed, “ of course it matters. You’re gonna be on this ship you’re gonna be comfortable. Are you cold, boy?”

He looked to the floor and nodded a little, “yeh, ‘m kinda cold.”

She nodded curtly with a small ‘humph’, glaring at Aleta before walking around her workspace to a large cabinet. Inside there were piles of clothes that Yondu assumed must have been in different sizes as the woman seemed to be looking for one in particular. She glanced at Yondu and made a small sound of approval as she pulled out a pair of loose-looking pants. “These will fit you, dear,” she said, handing the pants to him, “just until I get your uniform all made up for you.”

Yondu looked from the pants to the woman and smiled a little, “thanks.” He pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them before pulling the new pair of long pants over his legs. When he looked back up the woman smiled at him, gently cupping his cheek in her hand.

Aleta cleared her throat and gestured slightly to the older woman, “so this is Nona. Just in case you didn’t figure that out. I have to step out for just a little bit, but she’ll take good care of you, alright? She has to measure you for your uniform.”

“I’m sure he figured it out, he doesn’t look like an idiot,” Nona snipped, waving Aleta off, “I’ll make sure he’s comfortable. You go take care of whatever mess my grandson has you cleaning up.”

“Fine, fine. I’m on my way out.” She looked to Yondu to make sure he looked comfortable. “Nona will take good care of ya. I’ll be back in a while to chick in, alright?”

Yondu simply nodded, he’d be alright with Nona. She seemed like a nice woman, and he liked how cozy the room was - he couldn’t even tell that he was in just another metal-walled room on the ship.

“Alright. Catch ya later, kid. And Nona - don’t pry too much.” With that, Aleta turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving Yondu alone with Nona.

As soon as the door was shut, Nona grabbed a few things from the drawers around her workspace and seemed to have a spring in her step as she started the fitting. She hummed softly to herself as she bustled around the boy, using her tape measure to get the lengths of his arms, legs, and torso.

Yondu watched the woman working. She was so careful and kind, she wouldn’t yank on his arms or handle him harshly. Each time she needed him to move she would ask him in a soft voice to lift an arm or turn around or shift slightly. It was something completely foreign to Yondu, but definitely not bad. 

“This is going to take me at least a day to make, so what you’re wearing will have to do for now. Probably not much of an improvement from what you were wearing when Stakar found you.” Nona turned and went toward a shelf, glancing at a few fabrics before deciding on one that was a deep purple colour.

Yondu shook his head, “these’re better. They ain’t dirty.”

Nona walked back to Yondu and placed the fabric down on her table. She then turned to the boy and placed her hand on his cheek, “baby, if you ever need a clean set a’ clothes, you come to me, y’hear? You don’t have to live like that anymore.” With that she smiled sweetly and continued on to her workspace, humming as she began to measure and cut fabrics.

It was a bit of a shock to the young boy. He touched his cheek where Nona’s hand had been, realizing that he immediately missed the warmth that she emitted. He stood like that for some time, he couldn’t say how long, but he snapped out of it when Nona spoke again. “So you’re a Centaurian. I haven’t seen one of your kind in… A long time, at any rate.”

Yondu nodded, that’s what he was, apparently. Just like the boy at the facility had told him he was. He secretly hoped that one day he could visit his home planet, but it wasn’t something he was going to ask of the captain. For all he knew it could be on the opposite side of the galaxy. And anyway, it wasn’t as though his parents would be looking for him. Or wanting him, for that matter. One soldier always made a point of reminding Yondu that his parents sold him, that he was never wanted by them.

“Stakar told me why they took your fin… Sick bastards.” They must have known how important the fin was in Centaurian culture. From what Nona had learned in her time, they were a symbol of social standing. And if a Centaurian was missing their fin, they were considered lesser beings. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell Yondu this, he was only a boy.

He looked to the floor when Nona brought up his fin, or lack thereof, “I keep thinkin’ it’s gonna be there, but it ain’t.”

Nona nodded with a soft grunt of understanding. She glanced up from her work and let out a small sigh, noticing how broken the boy looked. “Baby, you didn’t deserve any of what they did to you. But in time it’ll heal, and so will you.”

That was somewhat of a confusing statement for a ten year old to grasp fully, but he still nodded in agreement and offered Nona a small smile. 

“You can take a seat, if you want. There’s a chair right behind you that you can use, it’s nice and comfy.” She hummed as the boy settled on the chair and returned to her work in the comfortable silence that they fell into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this chapter, I had a bit of writers block plus I started a new job so I've been a little busy! I hope I can get the next one out within a week or two. I'll try, anyway.
> 
> Constructive criticism/comments of any kind are always welcome. Please let me know what you think so far!
> 
> Thanks for reading! x


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